Mrs. Phagun

learning from the Pro.

Knowing that Mrs. Phagun had been a "living legend" in the human services system for 50 years, I knew to proceed with caution as I tried to get her home ready for licensing.

She had run a group home for Mentally Retarded women for nearly all of those 50 years with little or no help from anyone. Although short in physical stature and eighty years old when we met, she was one of the most formidable people I have ever known. She had beaten cancer three times and, in the process, had undergone a double mastectomy in 1946, which left her right arm useless. Even with these issues, her group home reportedly ran like a fine Swiss watch.

The State, in its infinite wisdom, had decided that Mrs. Phagun's home must be licensed or closed, and I was sent from my program to get her ready for that. I had been warned she hated any kind of change and was a stickler for correct manners. Getting off on the wrong foot with her would mean the end of anything I was trying to do, and likely, I would be held responsible for the end of the legend.

On the day of our first meeting, I drove to her home and sat in my car down the street. I had come early because I did not want to be even a little late. At five minutes to our meeting time, I drove into her driveway and arrived at her door exactly on time.

The door opened, and there stood Mrs. Phagun - all 4 feet 5 inches of her. She looked me up and down before locking eyes with me.
In a quiet but firm voice, she said, "You must be Victor. Come in, it's tea-time."

This was not an invitation; it was an instruction, and I did as I was told. I was now on her turf and knew that I had better be on my toes.

My overwhelming first impression of this lady was that she feared nothing, especially me, and that this assignment was going to be a real challenge.

We passed through the kitchen and a sitting room to get to the formal dining room. On the way, we passed several of the elderly women residents who nodded but said nothing.

I wasn’t introduced to anyone; I was sure this was because it was unclear whether I would be around long enough for anyone to need to know who I was.

We arrived at the dining table, and I was offered a seat. I waited for Mrs. Phagun to sit first.

As soon as we were seated, a sturdily built elderly woman appeared with a tray containing a teapot and a dish of cookies and poured a cup of tea for both of us.

Mrs. Phagun introduced her, "This is my strong right arm, Maggie".

For her part, Maggie just grinned and said, "Pleased to meet ya, Victor".

I later discovered that Maggie was 75 years old and had spent much of her adult life in a state school. Her family had literally left her on the doorstep of the state school when it was a foundling home. Over many years, the state school evolved into an institution for the care of mentally retarded people. Even though I don't believe that Maggie was retarded, she had grown up with retarded people and failed to learn skills like reading and writing.
I found out later that Maggie felt she had been rescued by Mrs. Phagun from the state school and given a chance to have a good life. Maggie was the most faithful of lieutenants, and no detail of the home escaped her notice. I noticed that when the two of them were in the same room, I was aware of only one physical presence. They had been together all the years that the house had been open, and Maggie did for her without any pretense.

But Maggie was not invited to join us for tea, not this time. This was, I found out, a ‘business tea’ and I was the ‘business’ to be dealt with. I was verbally nudged, probed, and examined.. This was done so sweetly and subtly that I almost didn't notice it happening.

Without a second thought, I told her the ‘nuts and bolts’ of my life's story. Instinctively, I knew that playing games with her was not a good idea and would get me nowhere. Honesty was not only the best policy; it was the only policy. So I gave up and told her everything she wanted to know. The conversation became much more relaxed.

We seemed to understand each other right from the start. I knew that I could trust this person in every situation to be right up front with me. It was clear that my job was not going to be easy.

I must have made a good first impression because Mrs. Phagun let me talk to her about the state's desire to license her home. She wanted to know why now, after 50 years. I told her because the laws had changed, and now all such homes must be licensed.

"Well, she told me, "It sounds like stuff and foolishness to me. After all, just look at the girls; don't they look well cared for?"

I said I could see that, but the law was clear, be licensed or close.

"What needs to be done to get this 'license," she said, waiting for the catch.

I said, "Don't worry; I will work on it with you."

She said, "I'm not worried, but I've run this home my way for all this time, and I intend to continue that way. If I can't, I'll close the house and be done with it."

I knew she meant it and said, "I promise that we will not change much about the house.

She cast a "weather eye" on me. I could feel her deciding if she could trust my word.

"Well”, she said finally, "I guess it is worth a try, but mind you, I'll be keeping an eye on this business as we go along."

After our "tea", I was escorted to the door and was invited to "tea" again the following week, at which time we would begin the licensing preparation.

On the way out, a few of the "ladies" approached me, and Mrs. Phagun introduced them to me. “This is May and Martha, they have lived with me since the beginning. May is the youngest; she is only seventy years old.”

The ladies' appearance and how they presented themselves were impressive.

I could see they were delighted to have a "new" person to talk with, and Mrs. Phagun had to assist me in my attempt to leave. But not before I had promised the ladies to spend more time with all of them. I found out later that very few men came to the house, which made me an unusual experience for them.

I left feeling that the first visit had been at least a partial success. I was, after all, still able to walk and had not been thrown out. I also knew that the coming week's "tea" would be when the work actually started. But most of all, to my surprise, I found myself liking this little Irish woman very much. Her vitality and resolve caused me to forget her 80 years. I was sure, for some reason, that we would be friends beyond the work we were to share.